


Watching

by Stinacat



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, Filth, I'm not going to pretend it's not, It's all about the sex alright, M/M, Mentions of rough sex, Multi, Slight praisekink, handjobs, mentions of bondage, perfect babes, this is just filth, turnfreewood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 13:40:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5969209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stinacat/pseuds/Stinacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a lot of different configurations, when three people are involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching

**Author's Note:**

  * For [livfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/livfish/gifts).



> Listen, I'm making no excuses for this. It's just filth. It could turn into more filth, who knows. Inspired by a conversation with my bae livfish (and also the voyeuristic disaster that was the podcast this week).

There’s something better than any high about having both of them at her mercy, Meg decides. With a passing thought that that sounds like something out of an awful romance novel. Because they’re not so much _at her mercy_ in a dark scary voice as they are both looking at her with something like adoration in their eyes, waiting to know what she wants from them.

Gavin’s sprawled in the chair in the corner of their bedroom (and to think he’d called her ridiculous for wanting a chair in the bedroom, in the corner next to the bed that comfortably fits all three of them). He’s only got on the grey boxer briefs that are her favourite, cutting a line over his hipbones and moulded quite clearly to the shape of his hard cock. What’s ridiculous, she thinks, is that Gavin of all people didn’t immediately think to use the chair for sex. Because she knows that her libido is more active than most but Gavin likes to watch.

Which is what he’s doing, one leg hooked over the arm of the chair as he drinks in the combination of her and Ryan, all pale skin in the dim lights, a stark contrast to his eternal tan from the Texas sun. If she thought he’d join them before she’s finished with Ryan, Meg would lace the black ropes in the toy box masquerading as a blanket chest around his slim wrists, make sure he couldn’t move from the chair.

But she’d told him to stay, to _watch_ , in the tone of voice she gets sometimes that brooks no argument. It makes heat flash in his hazel eyes when she does it. It works well, that the three of them can go any which way at any given time. Some of the best fun happens when it’s all three of them in the mood to take control (those are the nights before the mornings when she wakes up the best kind of sore, with bruises on her hips and hickeys marking her skin, and Ryan pretends to complain that there are teeth marks – faint but still there – dotting his collar bones, and Gavin will walk around the office with a secret grin on his face all day).

But tonight it’s unequivocally about her.

Somehow Ryan still manages to smoulder up at her from where she’s perched on his chest. His lips are swollen from her teeth and tongue, and Gavin’s before that (all over him while they walked up to the front door from the car, Gavin will take what he wants as soon as he wants it, unless one of them tells him not to), and there’s something dark in his blue eyes as she sits with her legs on either side of him, his big arms resting comfortably on her thighs.

Meg brings her hands up to brush over her nipples, because they’re sensitive even two nights after they’d pinned her down and licked and bitten and _ravished_ them just because they could, her boys conspiring in what she’s sure is the best way imaginable. Ryan’s fingers twitch against her thighs, and if she didn’t already know how worked up he was (his dick is thick and hard against his stomach and she definitely hadn’t spent all day teasing him in the subtlest ways she could think of – all the ways that wind him up fastest) its confirmation.

She knows the grin she gets on her face is probably bordering on conniving, but he’s given her the perfect idea. He wants to touch her probably more than anything else in the world – even more than he wants to get off – and she’s not quite going to let him. Because if Gavin likes to watch, Ryan fucking hates it. He’s all about touching, even if it’s not remotely sexual (but especially when it is).

So when her she’s had enough of her hands on her breasts (when Gavin’s made a pleased noise and she’s shot him a wicked smirk) Meg moves one down to trail over her clit and down to where wetness has already pooled between her thighs, just from the atmosphere, from the way they’re looking at her and the anticipation. Ryan makes a noise in the back of his throat, halfway to a moan just at the sight of her touching herself so close to him. With a grin that’s anything but coy she offers two fingers coated in her slick to him, brushed against his pink lips. Ryan stares for all of two seconds before his tongue darts out and then his mouth wraps around them.

Gavin makes a noise that sounds like a low chuckle from his spot on the chair, and Meg turns her head towards him with another smile. There’s something so easy about the way he watches them, so comfortable sprawled over the chair and involved but not all at once. It makes him alluring in an exotic kind of way. He slips a hand into the boxer briefs and Meg can’t help but lick her own lips just at the sight. Ryan nips at her fingers to get her attention and she turns back to face him.

“Impatient.” She says quietly, but it’s not an admonishment so much as it’s fond, her free hand threading through his hair and tugging the strands affectionately. His eyes flutter shut and she figures he’s had enough teasing, through the day.

It’s easy, to shift further up his body and put her thighs on either side of his head, let him wrap his arms around them to keep her as close as possible, now that she’s moved. Meg shivers at the scratch of his stubble against the sensitive skin between her thighs (hates it when he shaves, hates it more when _both_ of them do). She keeps the hand in his hair, because he likes the feeling as much as she likes being able to get his mouth where she wants it.

The first touch of his tongue to her clit makes her jolt. She knew she was worked up, but just how much is a surprise (probably shouldn’t be, nice that it is) and she shifts her hips immediately so that his tongue trails down her slit and back up a few times. When Ryan moans against her, lips wrapped around her clit as he sucks gently on the hard bud, it makes her tighten her fingers in his hair again, and the feedback loop is nearly instantaneous – he moans harder, as ever unashamed by his pleasure (where Gavin is quiet he is loud), and she moves against him, tightens her hands in his hair again, and then he moans louder, arms like a vice around her thighs.

(Sometimes she wants to tie him up with the same black silk ropes she contemplated for Gavin, stark against Ryan’s creamy skin and keeping his arms above his head, lanky body stretched out for them to use – somehow she thinks he’d enjoy it).

Ryan pulls back a little to breathe on her, cooling where his spit and her wetness have covered her, and Meg uses it as an invitation to grind against him, using the leverage of her position over him and her hands in his hair to more or less ride his face. There’s something like bliss in his expression as he lets her (and that’s the thing, she’s so tiny compared to him he could overpower her easily, flip her over and pound into her with his thick cock but _he doesn’t_ ; she has all the power and if she wants to ride his face until she screams he’s absolutely not going to stop her).

The noises slipping out of her mouth are more or less involuntary, gasps and choked off moans and _praise_ ; ‘yes Ry, so good for me’ seems to get the best reaction, his fingers tight against her and the flutter of his eyelids, golden lashes half circles on his cheeks.

Meg’s eyes are nearly shut – because fuck she’s so close, she’s not sure who taught Ryan to use his tongue like he does but she owes them a fucking fruit basket or something – but she looks over at Gavin. His eyes are hungry and trained on them, roaming over their familiar bodies like he can’t decide what he wants to look at more. They flit between her hands tangled in Ryan’s hair, the sway of her breasts as she moves her body over him, the way Ryan’s cock twitches against his lightly furred stomach. Gavin’s discarded his underwear, long fingers wrapped around his bare cock and it doesn’t matter where he’s looking because he’s doing it with rapt attention, and the weight of his gaze – like it often is – is heady and intoxicating.

Her attention snaps back to Ryan in a heartbeat when his arms tighten to hold her still and his mouth latches onto her clit, nose digging into her mound as he flutters his tongue over the sensitive bud, scrapes his teeth so gently the way he knows she likes. And really, she would tell him off for unwrapping one of his arms, but his hand goes straight between her thighs and two of his fingers slip inside her, long and thick and curled just right against her, rubbing relentlessly against the spot that makes her moan like nothing else.

If it wasn’t such a cliché she’d see stars as she cums, crying out and shifting her hips uncontrollably to ride it out for as long as possible. Ryan’s fingers keep moving inside her, drawing it out until she’s shivering on top of him and her wetness is glistening on his cheeks and around his mouth. It’s an effort when she slides down the bed next to him and kisses him deep and slow, but it’s worth it for the taste of herself on his lips.

Ryan makes a surprised noise into her mouth and Meg breaks away to look down. Gavin may like watching, but there’s nothing backwards in coming forwards about the way he’s pinning Ryan’s hips to the mattress with dextrous fingers, mouth wrapped around the head of the other man’s swollen cock and tongue flicking against the leaking tip like his life depends on it. Ryan keeps his hips as still as he can (Gavin’s mouth is a rarity for him) and the result is aborted thrusts that seem so desperate it makes Meg flush all over again.

The frustrated noise that comes out of Ryan’s mouth when Gavin pulls away to move up the bed is something Meg relishes (she’ll remember it when she wakes up with the lingering memory of a dream and heat between her thighs). It’s strangely beautiful, watching Gavin lean over Ryan and nudge her gently aside so that he can kiss him, lapping up the taste of her and letting her be the one to watch. He wraps a hand around both of their dicks, stroking them together in a way that makes their breaths hitch at the same time.

And she understands (has always understood, really) why Gavin likes to watch sometimes. Sometimes he won’t get involved at all, will touch himself while he watches until he’s spilling over his hand at the sight of them. But watching them move – together and against each other – breathing in each other’s air, foreheads pressed together and Ryan’s hand solid and crushing Gavin against him…if she wasn’t so sensitive Meg would be getting herself off just looking at them arching against one another. As it is she wants to lock away the sounds in the back of her mind – the little gasps and the harsh intakes of breath, their names, _her_ name – as they cum, tumbling over the edge one after the other and then all at once.

Gavin goes boneless against Ryan and Meg strokes a hand through his hair, curled up behind their heads and still a bit shivery herself. He presses up into her touch and a giggle bubbles out of his mouth. It’s the normal post-coital euphoria – Gavin gets giggly, Ryan gets cuddly and Meg sits somewhere between – and Ryan huffs a laugh under him, eyes half shut against the dim light.

He nudges Gavin with a jerk of his shoulder, even though one of his arms is cradling the younger man, hand in the small of his back. “Go get a cloth, you made a mess.”

“You made a mess too Ryan.” He protests good naturedly, but they’re looking at each other with something like adoration. And then Gavin shifts – still halfheartedly grumbling – and tilts her head up to kiss her as he gets up and pads through to the ensuite.

Ryan stretches above his head to wrap an arm around her (she thinks at an awkward angle) and settles with his head on her stomach, fingers making what feel like sparkling trails against her cooling skin.

Meg isn’t a god fearing woman. She’s not a god-anything woman. But it’s in the moments where Gavin and Ryan take her apart and put her back together, the moments where they know each other so well and they fit better than anything else, that she wonders if it was all meant to be, the three of them.


End file.
